


A Hobbit's Intentions

by RenkaWrites



Series: A Hobbit's Introspection [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anthro!Smaug, Bilbo rolls with it, Domestic Fluff, Dragons can be terribly romantic, Human!Smaug, M/M, Mentions of Fili and Kili - Freeform, Mentions of Thorin - Freeform, Smidge Of Angst, mostly movie compliant, smaug does what he wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-01 00:10:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12144210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenkaWrites/pseuds/RenkaWrites
Summary: Bilbo Baggins has returned from his journey to the Lonely Mountain. Thinking his time for adventure is done, the last thing he expects to see is the dragon that should have been at the bottom of a lake, far, far away.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ***Welcome to my very first SmaugoBo fic!(I've always enjoyed this pairing and thought I should do my part and add to it)***  
> This is also my very first AO3 exclusive fanfic(I'm currently in the process of transferring/editing my favorite fics from other sites because I like this interface better).
> 
> Just a few quick notes before we begin, this story takes place after the events of The Hobbit, yet before Bilbo adopts Frodo. This is also based off the movies more so than the books. And though this fic is indeed Smaugbo, it is not Smauglock/Johnbo(nothing against it, just clarifying).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this prologue(There's more to come!)

Bilbo Baggins has never been one to rock the boat(proverbial or otherwise).

Well, at least not intentionally. 

He has always been a good, respectable hobbit and had every intention of living his life as a proper hobbit should. Even with the Took in his blood, Bilbo would have been perfectly content tending to his home in Hobbiton, spending his days smoking his pipe in his garden, entertaining the local children with his stories and in general, minding his own business thank you very much.

He never intended to befriend a peculiar wizard.

He never intended to host a company of boisterous dwarves.

He never intended to unknowingly steal a quite remarkable ring. 

And he certainly never intended, nor ever expected, to travel far from home on a quest to slay a most terrible dragon. 

Yet, often in life, one finds that even the best of intentions can often lead to the worst situations. And unfortunately for Bilbo, he has the rather unfortunate luck of literally having trouble knock on his circular front door. 

And perhaps even more unfortunately, this trouble always seems to come around just as he's about to sit down to a lovely meal. 

Which is the very case when his evening tea is suddenly interrupted by a steady knock on his door. 

The hobbit is both wary and curious as he puts down his tea cup and slowly stands from the sofa. Clad only in his light bedclothes, Bilbo makes his way to the green door. Furred feet take their time as Bilbo instinctively knows that his visitor is no fellow hobbit(After all, no respectable citizen of Hobbiton would ever call upon another at such a late hour). Bilbo sincerely hopes with every fiber in his being that this late caller is of pleasant company. However, the hobbit can't ignore the unease that settles in his belly as he nears the door. The former adventurer cautiously picks up Sting along the way, making sure to hide the Elven weapon behind him and out of sight(There are things that Bilbo Baggins is, and some things he is not. And one of things he is not, is a coward). And with a deep breath to calm his nerves, Bilbo opens the door. 

On the other side of the green wood seems to be a human man, however the hooded cloak he wears makes even that assumption uncertain. The only feature that the hobbit can discern is his visitor's tall height and rather intimidating frame. As if to answer Bilbo's unspoken curiosity, the stranger raises his head slightly without any verbal prompting. The action reveals the bottom of a human-like face with sharp and angular features. Bilbo searches his mind to see if it matches any that he has seen before, perhaps of Laketown or the elven cities of Rivendell or Mirkwood, but the hobbit comes up with not even the faintest gleam of recognition. 

This man(in the loosest sense of the word) clearly possesses a supernatural youth, but not quite the refined beauty of the ephemeral elves. The stranger's body is well muscled, yet nothing like the hardworking men of Laketown. He emanates a battle hardness, yet nothing close to that of a familiar band of dwarves. And even more concerning, is the aura of ancient magic that Bilbo's visitor emits that is nothing like that of a particular, yet eccentric wizard. The hobbit's eyes do manage to catch thick waves of dark hair that ends at the man's shoulders and complements a skin tone that appears to be bronze by birth instead of over exposure to the sun. 

As Bilbo takes stock of this stranger, he is surprised when the man suddenly leans in(completely violating Bilbo's personal space, mind you) and takes in a deep inhale. The man then tilts his head back and appears to be savoring the hobbit's scent like a fine wine. The rumbling chuckle that escapes the stranger's throat only further confuses poor Bilbo. However, the unmistakable note of deadly amusement sparks a shock of recognition so intense it paralyzes Bilbo completely. The hobbit's expression turns to utter disbelief as the hood is removed and finally reveals the entirety of the stranger's face. And though every other feature of this man is new to Bilbo, one physical attribute is hauntingly familiar. 

Eyes of molten gold sear and burn into the hobbit, freezing him in his place. 

Bilbo starts to tremble as he remembers the unnerving gaze that looks through all pretense, even the magic of an enchanted ring. The intense gaze of an apex predator, one that enjoys the thrill of a hunt almost as much as the actual kill. The ancient gaze of a creature that has existed for eons and shall continue to do so long after his time. The terrifying gaze of a creature of true, untamable power.

The very same gaze that has been haunting Bilbo's dreams since the last time they met. 

The metallic clang of Sting falling to the floor breaks the weighted impasse the hobbit and the man(in form only) have entered.  A serpentine grin slowly upturns the stranger's full lips, the reveal of teeth somehow just as horrifying as it had been on the maw of a dragon instead of the much smaller mouth of a man. Then, in a voice that purrs with the dangerous combination of amusement and ominous power, the not-stranger speaks. 

"How I've been looking for you, my _little_  Barrel Rider."

 

* * *

  **TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we begin here. I'm uploading the next chapter later this weekend(Don't want to keep you all waiting). 
> 
> I like Smaug with a darker skin tone, I think it adds to his mysterious allure and also I believe there should have been more people of color in the movies. He's a fire dragon, so to me it makes sense that his human form skin would be that of people from warmer climates. No disrespect to Benedict Cumberbatch, LOVED his portrayal of Smaug(best incarnation of a dragon I've ever seen on screen).
> 
> I have this entire story already written so it's mostly just edits. Miraculously, this entire story was written at work, in between customers. I kinda miss those days, I got so much writing done. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you stay along for the ride!  
> RENKA


	2. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the love, so far. As a new Smaugbo writer, it's very much appreciated. Any who, I hope you enjoy this next installment!

A beat of silence passes by as Bilbo comes to terms with the fact that Smaug,  _the_ Smaug—the Chiefest of Calamities and Terror of Erebor, is alive and in the Shire of all places.

Bright eyes turn inward as Bilbo rapidly searches through his own memories in confusion. The hobbit saw the black arrow pierce the dragon's hide in the weak spot just above his heart. Bilbo remembers vividly how the great dragon crashed into the dark waters of Laketown, extinguishing his flame for what was supposed to be all eternity. Yet, even with these facts blaring in his mind, the hobbit knows soul deep that this being before him, _is_  Smaug.

The dragon, meanwhile, simply ducks his head and enters the hobbit hole without waiting for an invitation or Bilbo's wits to return. 

With long strides that make his hooded cape billow perfectly behind him, Smaug makes himself comfortable in the sitting room of Bag End. He takes a seat upon one of the hobbit's sturdier chairs, looking every bit the deposed King he is even on furniture that is much too small for his form—current or former. An elegant eyebrow arches as the dragon takes his time to survey the knickknacks and baubles around the tidy hobbit hole.  When his sense finally returns, Bilbo quickly closes the door, shutting the dragon off from the rest of Hobbiton with a slam. He picks up the discarded Sting and shakily points the blade at Smaug. 

"What do you want, Dragon?!" Bilbo demands in a voice that doesn't match his thoughts.

"You assume I want something?" Smaug answers, the dragon seemingly amused by the threat. "Tell me, what exactly does a hobbit such as yourself have of value to a dragon?"

At the questions, Bilbo's fear ebbs a bit and is replaced with wariness. 

"N-nothing, I suppose. However, I would imagine that you're here to exact your revenge. Do what you will to me, but I will not permit you to destroy the innocent lives here."

The brave declaration makes the dragon tilt his head in interest. If Bilbo wasn't trying so hard to be intimidating, the hobbit would have found the image rather humorous. The thought is quickly pushed aside when the dragon speaks.

"Small one, you've seen first hand what devastation I can bring. If I wished to destroy you and your kind it would be so. I hardly would have stopped by first to chat and, least of all, to ask for  _permission_."  

The statement is made not as a threat, but as simple, undeniable fact. Bilbo has felt the inescapable heat and raw intensity of dragon fire and been one of the few souls to live to tell the tale. The Shire would be but cinder and ash in mere moments if Smaug desired it. And as much as Bilbo hates to even think it, he cannot deny that Smaug is a force that no hobbit(including himself) would ever have a chance against. 

"So, you have not come for revenge," Bilbo ventures, the hobbit only lowering his blade a hair. "Though, you still have not stated your true purpose here."

At that small show of acquiescence, Smaug lounges back into the chair. His gaze seems to gain a wistful gleam.

"Some things have no purpose," muses the dragon. "I've traveled through the skies, over clouds and under them. Through storms and winds, following their current. I've flown both towards the sun and away from it, I've been everywhere and yet nowhere at all."

Bilbo narrows his eyes in annoyance at the winding words that do nothing but wrap the evasion of his question around in knots.

"Enough, dragon. You only speak in riddles to hide the truth."

Smaug grins at Bilbo's observation. And while the dragon seems pleased with the response, the curl of his lips only intensifies the hobbit's apprehension.

"It does ring with familiarity, doesn't it, Barrel Rider? After all, when a creature enters your home uninvited and hides their intentions from you I can only imagine the inconvenience that creates."

The sarcasm in the dragon's tone, along with the irony of the situation, does not go by unnoticed by Bilbo. He too once spoke in riddles to evade his true intentions for trespassing in the Lonely Mountain. None the less, his own stare hardens, the small adventurer not yet ready to let his guard down around the dragon. Rolling his own eyes with amusement, Smaug decides to alleviate the tension.

"I am here to see you, Bilbo Baggins. That alone is the true intention of my presence."

The hobbit is in shock for the second time in a handful of minutes at those words. Of all the reasons that Smaug could have for coming to the Shire, a simple social visit is certainly not one that Bilbo ever expected. In his surprise, he lowers Sting completely to not obscure his view of the dragon's expression. When a few moments of weighted silence pass, Bilbo is surprised to find that his search of Smaug's human's face reveals no signs of deception or trickery.

This conclusion only serves to unnerve the hobbit further instead of calm him. 

"That makes no sense, Dragon. Why would you desire to simply 'see me'?"

Resting his head upon his hand, Smaug keeps his gaze upon Bilbo. Golden eyes languidly make their way across the hobbit's small form. As the dragon makes his full visual evaluation of the burglar, Bilbo can't help but wonder what it is the dragon sees. He imagines he must look rather ridiculous striving to be intimidating while dressed in nothing but his bedclothes—a far cry from battle armor. Bilbo's musings are interrupted by Smaug's response to the almost forgotten question.  

"When I emerged from the lake, I wanted to see you. It was a need that even now I don't fully understand. I initially assumed that it was simple vengeance, as you yourself assume. However, my anger towards you faded rather quickly. Then again, you were never the true target of my rage. You, Little One, were but a pawn in the dwarves' schemes. And when I learned that Oakenshield had met his end not so long after mine, my rage was appeased. My keep and its treasures may now be in the hands of elves, man, and dwarves, but it shall return back to me when their fleeting time ends. So, Bilbo, I came to you in search of something else in the meantime. Something far more precious than retribution."

At the word, Bilbo's eyes flicker over to the hiding space where his old ring is kept. Fear creeps into his mind(after all, how could such a small thing hold such sway over a creature as powerful as a dragon), his heart tightens. Something starts to nag at him to not part with the souvenir, no matter the danger. Shaking himself of the conflicting feelings, Bilbo returns to the conversation. 

"What do you hope to find with me?" 

The dragon notices the dart of Bilbo's eyes, yet scoffs at it.

"I am after no trinket. I advise you to part with yours as it will bring you nothing but trouble. However, if you wish to keep it, I will do nothing to hinder that aim." 

"Then what is it that you desire?" Bilbo asks tentatively. His curiosity returning to him. 

"I desire the one thing that you mortals value even more than wealth. I desire your time."

The hobbit's confusion is written across his face, prompting the dragon to continue his explanation.

"You are the first creature in eons to pique my interest, Bilbo," Smaug clarifies. "I did not lie to you in Erebor when I said I have never met one of your kind, a _hobbit_. So, I've decided to educate myself on you and your people. What better method than direct observation?"

"And then what? After you've learned what you wanted, will you leave?" 

"As is my answer to all your inquires—If I desire to. No creature has ever commanded me and it shall not begin now. As my situation currently stands, I am in need of a temporary residence until the  _infestation_  in my mountain has left. As you are partly responsible for that, your abode will do nicely for the time being." 

"Have I no right to refuse, _Yo_ _ur Majesty_?" 

At the sarcasm lacing the question, Smaug says nothing but looks at the hobbit. His expression is as stoic as it was, yet his gaze has intensified. Bilbo can't help but be reminded of a King about to weigh judgement on poor soul before him—the decision in the dragon's eyes isn't whether he lives or dies, but rather how advantageous each option is. 

Either option doesn't seem to faze Smaug. However, the dark grin on the dragon's face only confirms Bilbo's greatest fear.

"I see, if I don't let you stay and continue your 'education', y-you'll destroy the Shire." 

For another weighted moment, Smaug stares evenly at the hobbit as if in further internal debate. When he appears to reach his decision, the dragon shrugs in Bilbo's direction. 

"No, I will not destroy the Shire." 

"You won't?" 

His remark and matching tone of disbelief earns a single raised eyebrow from Smaug. Bilbo is beyond thankful that the dragon has deemed it unnecessary to destroy the peaceful lands, however he is more curious as to the dragon's reasoning. 

"As I said, I am simply here to learn, _to observe_ , Barrel Rider. Knowledge is another form of power. One that can be the deadliest of all if used correctly."

"So, you are truly giving me a choice in this?" 

"It would appear so. Do not squander my generosity. It is a rare commodity."

Contemplating this new information, Bilbo knows that he should outright refuse(as politely as possible, mind) and rid Hobbiton of its temporary fire drake. The words are right on his lips, yet he can't quite force them out. 

If Bilbo is being honest with himself(as he always tries to be) it has been lonely in Bag End. With nothing but his memories and some trinkets from his adventures as company, his life is but a hollow, routine existence. Bilbo is no longer the innocent hobbit he was when he first left the Shire. The things he has seen and experienced on his unexpected journey have forever changed him.

Besides, he can't help but be genuinely curious about the dragon(most likely due to the Took in him).  

After a moment of silence pass, in which Smaug patiently awaits his host's response, Bilbo finally lowers Sting down to his side. Draconic eyes widen a fraction in surprise as the hobbit takes a seat in the chair on the other side of the fireplace—the dying embers flickering weakly.

"If I am to teach you about my kind, will you teach me about yours?"

The question earns Bilbo a smirk from his guest.

"An exchange rather than a favor, then?"

"Yes, if you'd be amenable." 

Smaug chuckles at the request, much to Bilbo's confusion. 

"You are the only creature I know that would choose not to take advantage of a favor from a dragon, Bilbo Baggins. A unique creature in all things it seems. You may ask your questions as you wish, which I will answer if I'm able."

Thousands of questions spring to Bilbo's mind at the dragon's prompting. However, the most pressing one, the reason Bilbo finds himself entertaining Smaug in his sitting room in the first place, insists on being asked first. The hobbit chooses to make himself comfortable on the chair, near his now cold cup of tea, as he thinks how to properly word the question that could upset this delicate stalemate. Clearing his throat, Bilbo rests the elven blade across his lap. He notices that the dragon's intense gaze is still on him, then again it never really left. 

"How did you survive the black arrow?"

Smaug seems to have expected the question as only a beat of silence occurs before he answers.

"Man-made weaponry is nothing to ancient magic. I admit that it took far more out of me than any other weapon I've encountered, but my kind are not meant to die by human hands. It is not the way of things. The black iron weakens dragons, but if the killing blow of equal ancient magic is not made, then we enter a deep sleep until our strength returns to us. Usually, we are either forced into hiding or forced to shed our form and shift into a smaller, weaker one until such time."

After the explanation, Bilbo imagines he must look crestfallen. For not a moment later, Smaug chooses to further explain himself.

"Fear not. Your wizard's efforts are not in vain. To those that desire to have my power, not my treasure, I am dead. They will not come for me."

Bilbo's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he now hurries to explain himself.

"Oh! No, that is not it. I suppose I'm just confused. If dragons aren't easy to kill, why are so few, if any at all, left in Middle Earth?" 

Smaug grins secretly at Bilbo's observations.

"There is a simple answer as well as a long one. Judging by your curiosity, you're interested in the longer version. And that my hobbit, is a story that takes a rather large measure of time that neither you nor I have this night to answer."

Bilbo is satisfied with this answer for now, as he has been all but promised the full, unabridged edition at a later date. After all, he is surprised that the dragon has revealed as much as he had just for the asking. The embers of the fire glow with the last bit of light they possess and serve to remind Bilbo of the late hour. Anxiously rubbing his hands, the hobbit turns his attention to another problem. Bag End is not a small residence, but hardly accommodating for one that once inhabited the sprawling halls of Erebor.

"Um, I suppose I'll show you to the guest room. I can fetch some blankets and pillows, though I doubt you'll really need them."

"Your hospitality is welcome but not necessary."

The sudden answer surprises Bilbo, but then he doesn't claim to know all the ways of dragons. At least not yet, anyway. Still, manners dictate that he at least offer suitable accommodations. Even if the dragon appears to be more than satisfied with his current location. 

"Are you certain? The furniture here is fine to sit upon but I wouldn't recommend a full night's sleep on it. Your size alone would make it uncomforta—" 

Bilbo is cut off by a deep chuckle. The sound is a bit foreign and sends a shiver down his back. Though it is not of fear.  

"My little Barrel Rider, you misunderstand me. I do not require separate quarters. We shall sleep together." 

Bilbo's face turns bright red at the declaration.

"W-Why?"

Smaug again arches an eyebrow in response to the question. However the gaze softens as he deems to humor the hobbit before him. 

"If your home is to temporarily serve as my home as well, I won't be able to sleep without knowing you are protected. My instincts demand it. Dragons are very protective of those in their care, whether our treasure is a being or an object. It is our base nature. Rest will not find me if I cannot physically ensure your safety. How do you suppose I do that if I am not near you?"

Logically, Bilbo supposes the explanation makes sense, yet his propriety isn't as quick to agree.

"I-I don't need protection. I'm not a youngling or-or a hoard of treasure! Besides, _you_ are the most dangerous being in all Hobbiton, in all the Shire. Perhaps in all of Middle Earth! What else could I possibly need protection from?"

"I imagine you, and the rest of Middle Earth, will find out soon enough."

At the foreboding tone, Bilbo looks up at the dragon. His embarrassment fades away as the look on Smaug's face silences any argument. The far-off stare is the same now as it was in Smaug's larger, draconic form and just as unnerving. It's almost as if he sees something most mortals can't even fathom. 

"Is there something coming? The darkness you once mentioned?"

Smaug is silent, as if debating whether or not to disclose the truth. 

"It rises, even now," the dragon begins after a weighted silence. "The darkness of Sauron will engulf all of Middle Earth, including your precious shire, if left unchecked." 

"But nothing ever reaches this far! Even Gandalf said that."

"Your wizard knows much, Bilbo, but not all. An evil that this realm has not known in some time will return. Eventually, it will come here. _Especially_ for your ring."

Bilbo tenses again at the mention of his precious trinket. This time, he is scared by the odd surge of possessiveness he feels. A dark voice in his mind whispers that Sting is still nearby and ready to slice anyone that wants to take his treasure. Bilbo is so lost in his internal struggle he doesn't notice that Smaug has moved closer until a large hand is upon his shoulder. Flinching slightly at the touch, he settles when his gaze is met with a steady golden one. 

"I am not going to take your ring, Bilbo. As dangerous as your prize is, this is actually the safest place for it. You are strong-hearted enough to not be completely pulled under its sway and influence. If the ring were with anyone else, I imagine it would be quickly reunited with its master. At the very least, the Shire is the very last place anyone would look for such an item." 

The hobbit relaxes a bit as he is strangely comforted with the reassurances as well as the use of his name. Looking up at the tall man, he is struck by the intensity that he finds in the dragon's eyes. The golden stare is once again taking stock of the Hobbit's form, yet this time the gaze is penetrating in a different way. 

"Is this the garb you always sleep in?"

Bilbo's face flushes as he is reminded of the thin sleeping tunic that covers his body. The longsleeved linen shirt ends just below his knees, revealing more of his legs than he would normally let another see. 

"Y-yes, is that a problem?"

"Far from it," Smaug coolly replies as he strides gracefully around Bilbo, his nose correctly leading him to the hobbit's sleeping quarters. 

It takes longer than the hobbit would like to admit to free himself of the spell that the dragon has placed him in. But before long, furred feet hurry along wooden floors to catch up to Smaug's long strides. 

Once Bilbo enters his chambers, he is horrified to find the dragon has made a shambles of his bedroom. The pillows and blankets, once neatly arranged on the bed, are now shaped into a crude nest with the softest ones at the center. Next to the bed, Smaug is stripping out of his travel clothes, leaving only his own undergarments. Bilbo is grateful for this consideration, even if the simple tunic and trousers hide none of Smaug's human, and rather muscular, form.

"Come Bilbo," the dragon invites with an outstretched hand. "I won't bite."

Ignoring that taunt(as well as the fact that it is actually a bit earlier than his usual bedtime), the hobbit can't resist the rather tempting pile. It actually reminds him of the forts he made as a child, much to his parents' chagrin. When Bilbo's hesitant steps bring him closer, the dragon picks him up rather easily, his true strength contrasting his current form. Bilbo flushes at the close proximity as he is cradled against a bare chest, his entire weight supported by just one of Smaug's arms. 

The dragon swiftly extinguishes the few lamps bathing the room in their low light before turning towards the bed. And before Bilbo can even register it, he is softly deposited into the center of the nest. Strong arms return to surround his smaller body as Smaug presses himself to the Bilbo's back—the dragon making sure to have himself as a barrier between the hobbit and the only door(the only weak point) in the bedroom. Bilbo blushes as he feels his bedmate scent along the curve of his shoulder and inhale deeply right behind his ear. 

"I have missed this scent," Smaug rumbles, his deep voice softened as he drifts off to a light doze. 

The dragon, apparently exhausted from his travels, ignores the tension still in the hobbit's chubby body as he snuggles into it. Bilbo, however is unable to relax just yet. The recent upheavals he has experienced this evening are far from conducive to an easy slumber. 

"What do I smell like?"

Hearing another intake of breath, the hobbit squeaks in surprise as the corded arms around him tighten a bit. 

"Fresh soil, grass, and a hint of flowers. The ones growing in your garden outside, no doubt. After years surrounded by no organic scent but the stench of dwarves and humans, it is distinctly pleasant."

The hobbit is unsure how to take such a comment, so he stays silent with nothing but an acknowledging hum. 

Curious, Bilbo takes his own deep sniff of the creature now encasing him. The hobbit's nose is clearly not as sensitive as Smaug's, but even he can pick up the smoldering scent of fire—like smoking apple wood or charred sandalwood. It is a heady yet calming aroma.

"You smell of fire," Bilbo announces to the dark silence after a moment. 

He may be unable to see Smaug, but the smirk on the other's face is palpable. 

"I am a dragon, hobbit. What else would I smell of?" 

Bilbo blushes, yet continues. "It's nice though, it reminds me of summer."

A rumbling sound, dangerously close to a purr comes from the dragon. 

"Go to sleep, Barrel Rider." 

Bilbo smiles at the unhidden fondness in the dragon's tone before closing his own eyes.

For the first time in months, the adventurous hobbit drifts into a deep sleep. Surrounded by the soothing heat of the great Smaug, even in his human-like form, Bilbo can't help but feel safe from any danger. It truly makes no sense for the hobbit to find security and comfort in the arms of the very creature that inspired some of the more terrifying moments of his life. Suffice it to say, this is a far cry from how Master Baggins intended to end his peaceful evening.

Yet more importantly, for the first time in ages, Bilbo doesn't feel quite so alone.

* * *

 

**  TO BE CONTINUED . . . **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little more development and plot in this installment. I've always enjoyed the banter between these two, so expect to see more(especially as Bilbo gets more confident).
> 
> I imagine Smaug to be a cuddler despite being an ancient fire-breathing menace. *shrug*
> 
> Next chapter is on it's way!  
> (Smaug and Bilbo will have a little "bonding" time)


	3. Infatuations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as promised, here's some quality bonding time between Smaug and Bilbo(*Hint Hint*, the chapter title comes into play). Enjoy!

The morning sun shines brightly upon the rolling green hills of the Shire, once again bathing it in warm light. The residents, while short in stature, appear to be fully enjoying the day for all it's worth—children are being walked to school and the marketplace is busy with the daily sales of fragrant flowers and fresh produce.  With the calming harmony of polite conversation, laughing children, and melodious birdsong, all seems like a start to another normal day in Hobbiton.

Which is precisely why Bilbo Baggins finds himself at a loss.

As the adventurer observes his fellow hobbits from his kitchen window of Bag End, he is oddly amused by the fact that all of his neighbors are completely(and blissfully) unaware of the terrifying dragon within their midst.  

A snort of amusement leaves Bilbo's nose at the thought of the stir it would cause if the truth were to be known.

However, gossip still spreads quickly around the hamlet. And the late-night arrival of Bilbo's current house-guest not even a week ago, is certainly of note. By now, just about every Hobbit in the valley is aware of the unexpected visitor—even if they do not know of his species. Smaug tends to attract attention no matter what form he takes, and the dragon revels in it. However, much to Bilbo's relief, most of Hobbiton are simply fascinated by Smaug's height(that already ostracizes him from the population) and his rather attractive features. The hobbit honestly spends most of the time rolling his eyes at the way the dragon charms his way into his neighbor's good graces. 

In hindsight, Bilbo should have known that few of his neighbors have raise an eyebrow at Smaug. It is not as if all Hobbiton isn't already well aware of the strange company that Bilbo Baggins seems to keep(he is friends with wizards and dwarves, after all). So, save for a few unannounced "social visits" from his more curious neighbors, Bilbo and his guest have been left to themselves. The hobbit finds himself appreciative of that gesture, as there are too many questions that could be asked to which he has no quick or rehearsed answer.

The clinking of a spoon against a ceramic tea cup breaks the peace of the morning as Bilbo stirs honey into his floral tea. Testing the beverage with a small sip, the hobbit is satisfied with the balance of sweetness. Brown eyes return to the window as Bilbo's thoughts turn to the errands he has to run this afternoon. Lost in his own musings, the hobbit doesn't notice that he himself has become the subject of another's thoughts. 

"Did you not just eat a meal a few hours ago?" 

Smaug's sudden question clearly interrupts Bilbo's pondering. However, only a smile crosses the other's face as he turns to face his houseguest. 

"Yes, I did. However, that was first breakfast. This is second breakfast."

Instead of satisfying the dragon, Smaug appears to only be puzzled further by the answer. 

"How many morning meals in total do you normally consume? I've been curious as to why a being so small requires the additional sustenance." 

"A proper hobbit is supposed to be a bit round," Bilbo answers. "Besides, besting dragons can hardly be done on an empty stomach." 

At the teasing comment, Smaug only seems amused, a shock to the reaction Bilbo was expecting. Then again, Smaug has been proving to be a rather cordial houseguest—sans the personal space issues. 

"So, how many breakfasts do dragons eat?" Bilbo inquires as he sits down to tuck into his second morning meal of sausages and biscuits(To be fair, first breakfast was just tea and seedcakes). 

"We don't have much formalities concerning our food, it is a more primal experience. Dragons eat when we feel the need to, there is no schedule."  

Bilbo chuckles to himself as Smaug turns his attention elsewhere, the dragon seemingly content to end the conversation there.  In the time that the dragon has cohabitated with the hobbit, the two have engaged in many of these small observation-based conversations. The two are now comfortable enough to casually exchange information and facts about their species without delving into anything too personal. After all, that would upset their delicate harmony and bring about feelings that neither hobbit nor dragon are up to exploring. 

As he eats his breakfast, Bilbo casually regards the man currently lounging on his small sofa. Smaug's long legs, elegantly crossed at the ankle, hang over the arm of the furniture as his golden skin absorbs the warm sunlight. The former king under the mountain once again manages to make himself appear effortlessly noble, even in repose. However, the hobbit's curious eyes are drawn to the appendage casually draped over Smaug's lap—the dragon's tail. The sinuous and powerful appendage is covered in deep red scales that taper into sharp looking barbs. Bilbo finds himself unafraid of this reveal of his houseguest's true form(except for how those barbs may damage the upholstery). To the contrary, he is once again intrigued. The tail had appeared only a few days into their arrangement, and so far Bilbo has resisted commenting on it. 

Until now, that is. 

"Why do you now have your dragon tail? It wasn't visible before, when you first arrived." 

Smaug doesn't even crack an eye open as he responds.  

"My power is strengthening and needs a conduit. Revealing my tail allows me to diffuse the excess energy as it returns to me."  

As the dragon speaks the appendage curls about lazily. The action reminds Bilbo of a cat lounging in the sun.

"So, the black arrow did weaken you?"

"Yes," answers Smaug, as if debating how much to reveal to his host. Bilbo seems to have passed the internal test as the dragon continues. "As I heal, my magic increases. Soon, I will have to return to my true form. This human shell won't be able to contain the initial surge." 

"Well, I do hope you regain your magnificence outside of my home. Bag End may be a stately smial, but it is hardly Erebor."

Smaug chuckles, amused by the comment. The sound is deep and almost echoes in the quaint hobbit hole as it once did in the golden halls of the Dwarven kingdom.

"Fear not Bilbo, I will not darken your home for long. In a few weeks time, I will be but a memory. Another story to tell the children of the Shire."

At the remark, Bilbo finds himself a bit saddened by the news that his company will be leaving soon. Odd as it is, the dragon has been an interesting houseguest. The hobbit clears his throat to hide his train of thought, plastering a small smile on his face.

"So, you said that you came here to recover as well as educate yourself. How were you so sure that I would let you stay?"

"You are a kind-hearted and curious soul, Bilbo Baggins. It would have been nigh impossible for you to turn away an injured guest, even one such as myself."

Bilbo isn't sure how to respond to that at first. Should he be flattered that the dragon knew him so well or insulted that Smaug used his good nature to his advantage? The hobbit settles on a suitable response he can think of.

"Well, I do suppose that it would have been horribly impolite to turn you away."

The conversation ends with the hobbit and dragon sharing a grin. Bilbo sips his tea as they return to their comfortable silence.

In the time that they've shared a residence, the hobbit has noticed that the dragon never joins him to eat. Periodically, the dragon will disappear for an hour or so—Bilbo assumes he spends this time hunting in the nearby forests. The hobbit supposes that they should share a meal together at some point as proper etiquette dictates. However, Bilbo is quite grateful that Smaug never has evidence of his undoubtedly bloody kills. And since the hobbit has never heard of any of his fellows losing any livestock or finding any bloody carcasses lately, he can only imagine that Smaug cleans up after himself. It is all oddly considerate on the dragon's part. Then again, after time spent traveling with a band of dwarves, he's seen all kinds of table manners(or lack thereof). In retrospect, Bilbo imagines that a dragon can't be that bad of a meal companion.  
   
Finishing his own meal, Bilbo cleans up after himself and takes a seat at his desk. He promptly pulls out his red book along with his quill and ink pot. As he continues penning his tales, the steady scratching of ink pen on parchment breaking the calm of the morning, Smaug cracks open an eye. 

"What are you always writing in over there little hobbit?" 

A small smile may or may not steal across Bilbo's face at the moniker. Either way, he doesn't slow his quill.

"I'll have you know I am a perfectly average-sized hobbit, Smaug. However, if you must know, I am writing of my adventures. It's best to write them while they are still fresh in my mind."  

"Are you particularly forgetful?"

"Not all of us are immortal dragons. Eventually, I will grow old and my mind may not remain as sharp as it is now. I hope to share my adventures with others before that happens. I rather like the idea of leaving behind a record for future generations to come across. When I'm gone, I wonder if they will believe this book to be a true account or a story written by a silly hobbit with an overly active imagination." 

As Bilbo chuckles at his own joke, the reminder at the difference in their lifespans seems to surprise the dragon. Smaug's gaze turns serious as he observes the small creature steadfastly writing at the desk. 

"That would be quite the tragedy," remarks the dragon. "What would Middle Earth be without the sharp mind of Bilbo Baggins?"

"You tease me, but I just want to make sure that nothing, and no one, is forgotten." 

At the sudden emotion in the hobbit's voice, Smaug regards Bilbo carefully. This time the silence is weighed and charged with an unspoken tension. Memories that Bilbo tries not to dwell on come to the forefront of his mind. As much as the hobbit enjoyed his adventures, he will always feel the crushing sadness at the deaths of his friends. The pain will dull over time he is sure, yet it will never truly fade.

"You were fond of the dwarves."

Turning from the book, Bilbo isn't surprised to find a golden gaze trained upon him.

"Yes, I was. I still am."

"You are alone in that particular . . . regard, however I know the pain of loss as all creatures do."

Shock is on Bilbo's face at the admission. For some reason, he had never considered the possibility that even dragons had lost loved ones—that dragons also grieve. The winged creatures are often portrayed as greedy and horribly monstrous beings. And avid reader, Bilbo can't recall one story where a dragon is shown as nothing more than a beast. Yet, after sharing his home with Smaug for these last few weeks, Bilbo has gotten to experience a myriad of the dragon's moods, flaws, habits, and peculiarities. It is an oddly-humbling thought to consider that a creature that has personally brought such desolation might have experienced it himself. It is a thought that piques the hobbit's curiosity.

"Smaug?"

"Write your story, Bilbo. There is no reason to concern yourself with mine."

The defensive tone is not commented upon, yet the hobbit knows his current company is fully aware of the unanswered question. Bilbo turns back around and continues his writing with an amused smile.

Another half of an hour passes before Bilbo is drawn out of his tales by a sudden inquiry.

"Do you not mingle with your fellow Hobbits? It seems your kind are a rather social species." 

At that observation, Bilbo sighs. He is more aware than anyone how much different he is from his fellow hobbits. Normally, this doesn't bother him, yet Smaug's observation has a bit more weight coming from one that is not a hobbit(Perhaps even more so because the comment it from a dragon, the furthest thing from a hobbit there is).

"On occasion, I join in on the many festivities Hobbiton has to offer. It has been an adjustment period, is all."

"For them or for you?" 

"Both, I think. More so them. I never fit in much here, not even as a young halfling." 

"Indeed. Among hobbits, dwarves, elves, and men you do stand out rather remarkably, Bilbo." 

At the compliment(that would be a veiled insult from anyone else currently in Hobbiton) Bilbo blushes. The Took in him secretly preens at the fact that such a majestic creature as a dragon has found him interesting. The words also manage to completely undo some of the self-awareness he had of his rather un-hobbit behavior. 

Unaware of the full effect of his words, Smaug has now stood to peruse the collection of the hobbit's books. Selecting a storybook, the dragon returns to his seat and starts to read. Bilbo chuckles to himself as he notices that the dragon has chosen his favorite childhood tome. For a time, Bag End returns to it's comfortable silence, interupted only by the steady scrath of a pen and the turning of a page. Finishing the current section, the journey into Mirkwood—the home of Elven King Thrandruil, Bilbo puts down his pen.

He looks up in surprise to see that entire hours have now passed. Late morning has now become mid-afternoon. 

"That's enough writing for today, I believe," announces Bilbo, after a stretch of his short limbs. When he finishes he turns his attention to his lunging house guest. "Smaug?"

"Yes, Bilbo?"

Mustering up his courage, the hobbit makes a request.  

"Would you be amenable to a walk with me?" 

The dragon says nothing in response. Instead, Smaug gracefully unfolds himself from his position on the sofa and stands to his full height(at least as much as Bag End will allow). The dragon then grins down at the Bilbo with a curious gleam in his golden eyes.

"Show me more of your precious Shire." 

  
* * * * * 

  
Once the hobbit and dragon have made their way outside, Bilbo's neighbors greet them with polite smiles and cheerful waves. The residents of Hobbiton are now quite used to Bilbo's tall guest—even with his darker skin and unusual golden eyes. 

After a few exchanges of pleasantries, the two find themselves in a meadow just out of eyesight and earshot of the Shire's inhabitants. They then travel an even further distance in companionable silence. Only the melodic birdsongs and soft chirps of crickets break the silence between their genial conversation. Eventually, Bilbo stops on the crest of a tall hill covered in thick green grass and a rainbow of wildflowers. Inhaling the sweet floral scent, Bilbo smiles as the wind gently tussles his golden locks. Smaug silently comes to stand beside the hobbit. From their vantage point, all of Hobbiton is sprawled before them.

Turning to the tall man next to him, Bilbo beams.

"This is my favorite place in all of the Shire." 

"Oh?"

"Yes, I can see all of Hobbiton, yet they can't see me. As a child, I've always been able to do as I wish here, free from prying eyes."

"And what exactly did you get up to here, Bilbo?"

The hobbit grins mischievously at the question. And before the dragon can blink, Bilbo runs full speed down the side of the hill. Smaug eyes widen in surprise as the fully-grown hobbit tumbles down the slope like a child. His bright laughter echoes in the valley all the way down, continuing even when Bilbo reaches the bottom.

"It is the best rolling hill!" the hobbit shouts, his exclamation carried by the wind. 

An honest chuckle leaves Smaug's throat at his companion's antics. 

"You are certainly full of surprises, Bilbo," the dragon murmurs, clearly finding the hobbit's joy infectious. 

From his place at the bottom of the hill, Bilbo grins. A few chuckles continue to escape his lips as he catches his breath, his chest heaving with every pant. Bilbo's hazel eyes peer up at the crest of the hill where his companion still remains.

"Join me! Come down here!"  

Unlike Bilbo, the dragon simply steps off the hill, his descent perfectly controlled as he lands gracefully beside Bilbo. A teasing pout is on the hobbit's face as Smaug turns towards him.

"You were supposed to roll down the hill." 

"I make it a habit to do the opposite of what's expected," Smaug counters with a smirk.  

"True enough. However, there is another reason I brought you here." 

"Oh?"

Once again, the dragon's curiosity is piqued. Bilbo blushes as he once again become the focus of his companion's intense golden gaze. 

"Here you can take your er, true form if you wish. No one comes this far out and they can't see anything over the hill. Not even a dragon," Bilbo explains, before adding. "Although I have not personally tested that." 

For a moment there is silence. Then a sly grin slowly pulls at Smaug's lips. The dragon then tilts his head a bit as if seeing the Bilbo in an entirely new light. 

"What a _devious_ hobbit you are, Bilbo Baggins." 

The words are said teasingly as Smaug begins to slowly circle around him. Bilbo can't help but be reminded of the same behavior the dragon exhibited in Erebor. However, unlike that time, the hobbit isn't afraid of any physical attack. The tension now sizzling the air is not life-threatening, yet still dangerous in its own way. 

"Are you certain you want to encourage me to take my true form, little hobbit? I might give into my more primal urges. After all, as you just pointed out, I could devour you in one gulp and no one would ever know the tragic and untimely fate that befell the master of Bag End."

The former adventurer considers that possibility for less than a moment, as he knows that Smaug is teasing him. He can't explain it exactly, but everything in Bilbo is telling him that the dragon is harmless—well, to him at least. With that affirmation, Bilbo confidently locks his own gaze with Smaug.

"I imagine that if you were planning to eat me you would have done so already."

"Perhaps I enjoy luring my prey into a false sense of security and eating them when they least expect it. I could have a taste for misplaced trust and the easily gullible."

"Maybe," Bilbo begins, pretending to ponder that possibility. However, it isn't long before a grin is on his lips. "Yet even with your particular tastes, it is quite odd that you would cuddle your food in your sleep. However, I don't presume to make that assumption." 

The hobbit's answer has Smaug throwing his head back in a rich laugh that echoes in the intimacy of the valley.

"You have won our game, my hobbit. I suppose a reward is in order." Bilbo can sense the grin on Smaug's lips before he continues. "Do not move, Little One." 

That purred command is all the warning the hobbit receives before a swirl of powerful magic, engulfs the valley they are in. Heat, not unlike the consuming burn of dragon fire, licks at his skin but does no damage. Bilbo closes his eyes out of instinct, but remains firmly in his place as instructed.

After all, he can still feel something very large, moving and unfurling all around him. 

When he senses that the dragon's magic is done, a warm breath completely encompasses the hobbit. It tousles his hair and clothing in an oddly fond way. 

"It is done, Bilbo." 

The familiar rumble of the sibilant voice coaxes the hobbit to open his eyes. The moment he does, Bilbo is in silent awe. His honey-toned eyes widen as they are greeted with Smaug, in all his glory.

The only thought that the hobbit can focus on is that his memory has not done the magnificent creature justice.

Out of the darkness of the mountain cavern and cover of night, Bilbo is struck by the deep garnet color of the dragon's scales. Their hue is only intensified in the golden sunlight. It reminds Bilbo of how the dragon looked bathed in molten golden, bright like the sun itself. The deep red of the dragon's hide reflects the light almost like precious gemstones and emanates a warmth, urging the hobbit to put a hand to the scales(each one much bigger than his entire palm!). He is surprised to see that the spot that covers the dragon's heart is fully covered with thick scales again, the mark of any black arrow long gone. Bilbo is not sure whether to feel glad that his companion has healed completely or fearful that the infamous dragon no longer has a weak point.

He quickly waves off the latter. 

Looking up, Bilbo stares into the rather huge eyes of the fire drake. 

He remembers the fear and wonder that fought against each other the first time he looked into those orbs. Deep in the mountain kingdom, fear had won out. Yet now, both hobbit and dragon bathed in the fresh air of The Shire, awe and wonder are all Bilbo experiences.

The hobbit's eyes travel the length of the serpentine form, taking in the powerful muscles, sharp claws, gigantic wings and winding tail. Funnily enough, the dragon has coiled around him in an almost protective manner, echoing how he curls around Bilbo in sleep. Smaug stretches out his wings and leisurely flicks his tail as he relaxes into the thick grass. The garnet red of Smaug's scales is a sharp contrast to the mass of the emerald-green blades. As he takes in the creature before him, Bilbo absentmindedly notices that the birds that were once melodious, are now silent. 

"You are more . . . resplendent, than I remember."

What passes as a chuckle rumbles in Smaug's throat, sending a low vibration through the ground. The hobbit curls his furred toes at the odd sensation. 

"Well, the last time you saw my true form it was plummeting into a lake, was it not?" 

Bilbo is speechless as his eyes once again roam over the enormity and majesty that is Smaug—the last Great Fire Drake of Middle Earth. The dragon inspires both awe and terror, yet there is a potent beauty to Smaug's ferocity and clear power. The hobbit finds himself caught up in the duality of the dragon's existence.

"Are you regretting your invitation now, hobbit?" Smaug rumbles, misunderstanding the wide-eyed silence of his companion."Do you fear me again?"

Bilbo extends a hand and runs it along the dragon's hide. The ruby scales, while large, are smooth and pleasantly warm to the touch. This close to the dragon, the hobbit marvels at the full range of red and gold that create Smaug's visage. Bilbo can't help but gape in awe as he feels the flex and shift of the impressive muscles under his palm. 

"I'd be a fool not to recognize such power and acknowledge that I am no match against it," the hobbit answers after a moment. "But, no. I am neither afraid nor regretting my invitation. You are truly magnificent." 

"Your flattery, while appreciated, is unnecessary. I have nothing for you to trick from me."

If there is any resentment in the dragon's tone, Bilbo cannot hear it. He smiles gently as he continues petting Smaug(secretly pleased that he is most likely the only creature to ever do so). 

"We are both free of deception this time, Smaug.  My comments are simply honest observation." 

At that, the great serpent lowers his head to rest on the grasses. Smaug says nothing else, yet seems beyond content. A deep purr emanates from the dragon as he makes himself comfortable in the luxurious grass, bathing in the afternoon sun. Bilbo smiles as he watches the enormous creature settle into a mid-afternoon nap.

"Comfortable?" 

"Yesss."

"I notice you nap quite often. Do all dragons do this or is laziness a trait exclusive to you?"

"We rest to save energy. However in my particular case, I find it quite draining being a fire-breathing menace."

The hobbit chuckles at the retort, glad that Smaug enjoys their teasing words as much as he does. The dragon's eyes are closed, yet Bilbo knows the creature is fully aware of his surroundings. He finds himself amused by the dragon's repose. After all, the great fire drake is acting more like a housecat than the fearsome terror of Dale and Laketown. Taking out his pipe, Bilbo sits down within the circle of the fire serpent's body. He begins the familiar ritual of packing the bowl. And just as Bilbo is ready to light the end of his pipe, he is distraught to learn that he has forgotten matches. Sensing the hobbit's distress, Smaug rumbles out a comment. 

"Does something ail you, Bilbo?" 

"Yes, I seem to have forgotten the matches for my pipe." 

As the hobbit speaks, his small hands fish around in his pockets hoping to find at least one stray match. Smaug simply listens to the rustling of fabric and frustrated mumbles for a few moments before he decides to help the struggling hobbit. 

"In addition to your matches, you also seem to have forgotten your current company. You have a fire drake literally coiled around you, Little Hobbit." 

An embarrassed tint colors Bilbo's cheeks. Chuckling at his own foolishness, the hobbit extends his pipe towards Smaug.

"If you wouldn't mind?"

With what seems like very little effort, the great drake is able to emit the smallest stream of fire. The flame is nowhere near the intensity of the barrage that assaulted Laketown, but Bilbo is stunned by the control. The dragon had aimed at a nearby stick, successfully lighting the tip of it just enough to hold the ember. Impressively, Smaug had left both Bilbo and the surrounding landscape completely unharmed. As the hobbit picks up the glowing stick, honey-colored eyes are wide with amazement.

"That was fantastic! You have such impressive control over your fire." 

The dragon rumbles in amusement as he watches Bilbo take a few puffs to properly light his pipe. Success is made when the air is twinged with the earthy scent of tobacco.

"Power means nothing if one cannot control it."

Instead of a response, the hobbit simply takes a long drawl with a pensive look to his face. Bilbo can't help but be reminded of Thorin it the throes of his gold sickness. The power of the Arkenstone corrupted him completely, the dwarf king couldn't even remember himself let alone control the power it contained. Lost in his thoughts, the hobbit barely realizes that he is now leaning against the dragon, using Smaug's side as a back rest. The drake says nothing of it and simply continues his sunbathing. Bilbo's mind wanders as he thinks of Thorin's death. Lulled into relaxation by the steady rise and fall of the dragon's breath, Bilbo is reminded of a question he never quite got an answer to.

"Smaug? What happened to the other dragons, to your family? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, of course. I'm just curious."

A deep sigh escapes the drake, before he talks. 

"They are all gone."

"Gone? Did you kill them all?" Bilbo guesses.

"No, my dear hobbit. Though you flatter me thinking I alone am capable of such devastation," Smaug teases.  "Dragons are solitary creatures, drawn together to mate or in the event of pure survival. I truly have no idea what became of my hatchmates. My sire and carrier have all but faded from memory. But still, I remember their fire. I remember the skills they taught me to survive, and for that I am eternally grateful. But dragons as a whole were killed by men and wizards together—their magic and ingenuity proving to be quite the match. I have not seen another of my kind for quite some time, I can only assume they have all perished. Dragon's blood is a valuable ingredient to many spells and potions. Our hides and bones were used for armor and weapons before the invention of iron. Though, I'd be remiss to not acknowledge that my own talons have been partly responsible for the declining numbers of my brethren. Dragons have killed each other over territory and mating rights as all creatures do. Those that survived, if any, have most likely left Middle Earth." 

"Why?" 

"The time of ancient magick is ending in this realm," admits the dragon. His voice saddened more by this divulgence than his previous one. "The age of man is upon us. I predict in a few centuries, magick will be nothing but legend."

Bilbo's gaze takes in the creature around him, his mind unable to accept that all the wonders of magick, both good and evil, could one day be gone from Middle Earth. It is a humbling realization.

"That's quite hard to believe."

"It is the way of things. Everything has it's time. Nothing lasts forever."

"That is true. I suppose that all we can do is enjoy it while it lasts."

In silent agreement, Smaug hums his assent as he slips back into rest. The small hobbit against his side enjoying both the warmth of the day and the dragon behind him. Nothing more is said for a time, the two creatures simply enjoying the beauty of nature around them and the shared company. Bilbo indulges in an occasional smoke or two while Smaug blows his own, much larger, smoke rings(much to the hobbit's delight). The two spend the rest of the evening in a casual competition to see which could blow the most impressive smoke ring. 

Bilbo wins.

Later, when the two make their way back to Bag End, Smaug(long returned to his bipedal form) and Bilbo(now well versed on the history of dragons)  enter the abode in comfortable silence. The pair climb into bed, the dragon once again curled around the small hobbit. Bilbo doesn't even fight the embrace as he bundles himself in a single quilt(he no longer needs any other with the personal heater/dragon that insists on cuddling with him). Once he has found a comfortable position in the familiar circle of Smaug's arms, the hobbit closes his eyes. 

"Goodnight Smaug."

At the whispered words, the dragon rumbles back.

"Goodnight, Bilbo."

As the two creatures settle in for the night, Bilbo finds himself sneaking glances at Smaug's form. He chuckles as a wavy lock falls onto the angular face before his fingers gently return it to the rest of the man's hair. All in all, Smaug is rather pleasing to look upon in any form—as personally-confirmed by Bilbo. In his full draconic glory, Smaug is wondrous and awe-inspiring, a deadly beauty in all ways.

Yet, in the body of a man, Smaug makes a different type of shiver run along the hobbit's spine. 

Disregarding the dragon's physical appeal, Bilbo can't help how comfortable he feels in Smaug's company. Bilbo has always felt out of place—among hobbits, among dwarves, among elves, among men, and among every other creature of Middle Earth that he has come across. However, Bilbo has now found a companionship, _a soul bond_ , with a dragon. The likes of which, the hobbit has never before experienced. Whether this bond is one from mutual loneliness or true compatibility, the hobbit cannot say for sure. The sensible side of Bilbo can barely keep up with this line of thought, yet it also can't ignore the truth. Bilbo feels cherished by his dragon, even treasured perhaps, and he can no longer ignore that he likes that feeling. 

"Go to sleep, my treasure." 

A squeak of surprise leaves Bilbo's lips at the sudden endearment, making a deep chuckle leave Smaug. In their close proximity, the sound seems to reverberate around the two. The honest sincerity in the dragon's words has Bilbo still reeling as he sputters for a proper response. Not opening his eyes even once, Smaug simply pulls the hobbit closer to him, tucking the head of dark-honey curls under his chin. The dragon easily slips into sleep, his breaths evening out.

Bilbo, however, has his eyes wide open as his cheeks turn a scarlet that rivals Smaug's own scales.

There is no hope for an easy slumber now with the newfound knowledge, a revelation really, turning about in Bilbo's head.

After all, how is one to rest after realizing they are hopelessly infatuated with a dragon?

 

* * *

  **TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the last! Stay tuned for the resolution of all these new feelings our poor little hobbit is experiencing.  
> (It's funny, I didn't write this intending to be Smauglock/JohnBo, but I think it kinda snuck in there a bit, oh well)


	4. Affirmations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys!(Hope everyone had a happy Halloween) I've been battling some really aggressive allergies, but I'm back now. I apologize now for any mistakes, I'll fix them once I'm back at 100%.
> 
> Also, a lot of things happen in this chapter, so I'll let you guys get right to it!

Another bright sunny day has come to the Shire, meaning that Bilbo and Smaug are nestled in their valley once again. The hobbit enjoys a pipe as he lays in the curl of the great fire drake's tail, his red book propped in his own lap. The dragon is enjoying a light nap judging by the low purr that occasionally leaves his snout. A wicker basket filled with travel cakes and tea is beside the two creatures as they bask in the warm summer day. 

With the steady scratch of his quill across the parchment page, Bilbo notes(for not the first time) that dragons make fine lounges. The steady rise and fall of Smaug's chest is soothing and, strangely enough, more comfortable than the finest chair in Bag End. Pausing in his writing, Bilbo takes a long draw from his pipe. The hobbit's gaze is unfocused as he becomes lost in the recollections of his quite unexpected journey. 

Bilbo is almost finished penning his journey to the Lonely Mountain and back again, just finishing the conclusion of the Battle of Five Armies. He has been dreading this part for some time, as it only brings about painful memories of Thorin, Fili, and Kili. And even though months have passed, the hobbit still feels a tightness in his chest at thoughts of the late dwarves. 

Yet, as he finishes his words, Bilbo also feels a sense of closure. 

It comforts the hobbit to know that his friends will live on in some manner, even after he himself is long gone. The lives of Thorin, Kili, and Fili will exist as more than a historical annotation or a dry reference point. Bilbo's writings now exists as a true account of who these descendants of Durin actually were—for better or worse. And with this ode done, Bilbo can now move on and live out the rest of his own life without guilt for doing so.

And by reliving this journey, even through just memory, Bilbo has smiled and even chuckled out loud at his fonder memories with the dwarven company.

This process of writing out his adventure has not only served as a record and first-hand account for Bilbo, but as a catharsis for the emotional wounds that have been slow to heal. 

The hobbit also doesn't pretend to ignore that his current company has helped with his depression. 

Having someone to talk to about his adventures, and simply having another body in Bag End, has driven away the malaise that Bilbo feared he would succumb to. His days are now filled with an easy domesticity instead of wallowing in the depressing thoughts of his own mind. And in an odd way, the hobbit is grateful that Smaug has entered his life again.

Since he returned from his adventure, a different type of loneliness(one through life-experience rather than lack of companionship), has ostracized Bilbo from his fellow hobbits. The world-traveled halfling has seen wondrous marvels and lived through terrifying horrors that no other resident of the Shire could ever relate to. 

For Bilbo, it truly helps to have someone like Smaug around that understands firsthand the darkness that exists outside of the Shire and has witnessed wonders that the writer cannot possibly imagine. Even the nightmares and haunting dreams that used to plague the hobbit's slumber are driven away by the secure hold that the dragon insists upon every night. 

Well, to be honest, Bilbo finds himself quite partial to the sleeping arrangements.

And as impartial as he tries to be describing the events and people he's met in his journey, Bilbo can't help feel that the parts about Smaug may be forever influenced by their recent time together. While the writer has done an admirable job giving words to his initial fear of the great beast as well as the "defeat" of Smaug by the black arrow, it still feels a bit hollow. His gift with words are no help as Bilbo attempts to instill the appropriate amount of terror in any future reader of his tale. The hobbit supposes that might have to do with the simple fact that he personally has never been terrified of Smaug—he is still one of the most extraordinary things he's ever seen, after all. Unlike the Orcs that plagued his initial nightmares, Bilbo has always counted Smaug among one of the wonders he encountered traveling Middle Earth.  

Admittedly, it is also quite difficult to reconcile this current lazy thing surrounding him with the intimidating and menacing beast that he met within Erebor. Bilbo chuckles as a sound(what he can only assume is a draconic equivalent of a snore) momentarily disturbs the peace of the valley around them.

The hobbit simply accepts that he has done his duty as storyteller and detailed the account as he best remembers. As his quill continues to scratch away on the parchment, Bilbo suddenly pauses in his writing. He takes a moment to debate whether or not he should allude that while the Black Arrow fired by Bard hit its mark, it did not in fact kill the dragon. A minute passes before Bilbo decides to omit that detail. After all, at the time even he himself had thought Smaug to be dead. Bilbo instead focuses on the tangle of emotions he experienced then, knowing it would be a disservice to add details to the narrative that he did not know in that moment. 

Now, lounging casually on the great fire drake, Bilbo takes comfort in the rationality for his omission. Perhaps one day he will write an account of these calmer days for his own recollection. He would like to always remember these peaceful times with Smaug the Stupendous. 

A warm smile makes its way onto Bilbo's round face as he enjoys that thought.

"It's been sometime since you've asked me a question about hobbits," remarks the former adventurer as he returns to his writing. "Have you had your fill, Smaug?" 

The hobbit's question remains unanswered for a few moments. Bilbo is certain that he was heard, and is just about to return his full attention to his work, when the dragon around him speaks.

"I've learned quite an amount from simply watching you and your kind," purrs out Smaug as his tail lazily curls in the soft grasses. "While I find hobbits more amenable than most creatures in this realm, they as a whole are not that fascinating. It seems that trait simply belongs to you alone, Bilbo Baggins."

The compliment hidden in that observation makes a full blush tint the hobbit's cheeks.

"I assure you, I am not that fascinating."

A deep chuckle rumbles through the dragon at that.

"We shall simply have to agree to disagree."

As the two continue to enjoy their own little world, Bilbo writing away in his book as Smaug soaks in the sun, a change in the wind is felt. The bird song that normally fills their isolated valley falls silent as an eerie pulse seems to travel overhead. Bilbo barely notices any of this until he feels the fire drake stiffen behind him. Smaug raises his head from the grasses, the dragon's nostrils flared wide as his serpent tongue flicks out. If not for the tension emanating from the creature, Bilbo would chuckle at his companion's lizard-like gesture.

"Is everything alright, Smaug?"

His question receives no answer as the dragon quickly shifts back to his human form. No matter how much exposure he's had to wizards and other fantastic creatures, Bilbo is still in shock at the sudden flood of magic, completely disoriented by the abrupt shift in mood. He is further surprised to find himself now in the embrace of Smaug's human-like form. The man remains tense as his sharp gaze surveys the land. Bilbo is quiet as he observes this distant stare, as if the dragon's golden eyes can see far past the edges of the Shire. It truly worries the hobbit that something has caused such a visible reaction in the normally-stoic fire drake. 

"Smaug?"

The utterance of his name seems to snaps the dragon out of his ensnarement. Smaug gently deposits Bilbo to his furred feet as a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes appears on the dragon man's face. 

"We should return to Bag End. _Immediately_."

Bilbo is clearly confused by this early end to their day, yet the tense expression on Smaug's face has him obediently following the wide gait back home. For the first time, their walk is filled with an uneasy silence instead of pleasant conversation. The hobbit's nerves fray even further as his imagination runs away with him. After all, there isn't much that could possibly upset Smaug and none of those possibilities are pleasant. 

When they arrive at Bag End, Bilbo enters first and holds the door open for his house guest. However, he is surprised to find that the dragon has not followed after him.

"Go inside Bilbo. There is something I must check upon."

"You're coming back, right?"

Bilbo peers up at the tall man with a look of concern, hoping that he's effectively communicating his worry. An assurance, anything at all, would go a long way to soothe Bilbo's anxiety. At first, the dragon remains impassive then he bends down to lock eyes with the hobbit. A small grin cuts through the seriousness of his expression.

"Yes, Bilbo, I will return. However, there is no need to wait up for me."

Without waiting for a response from the confused hobbit, Smaug turns and walks towards the edge of Hobbiton. Bilbo watches the dragon's receding form long after he is out of eyesight. Still unsure what to make of Smaug's strange behavior, the hobbit slowly retreats into Bag End. The sound of the closing door echoes in the silence.

In a daze, the hobbit prepares his supper, barely tasting whatever food he has assembled. An odd muscle memory kicks in as the hobbit goes about his evening—he smokes another pipe, tidies up the living room, and even rearranges a few knickknacks on his shelves. Yet for hours, the only conversation Bag End hears is the one between the ticking clock and the crackling fire. And even after the sun sets and he mindlessly changes into his bedclothes, Bilbo is still trapped in his thoughts. The hobbit doesn't even notice what book he selects to read in the dragon's absence. Not that is matters, his mind is still too preoccupied to attempt to read the words before him.  

It is hours, well past midnight, before the green door opens again and Smaug walks through. The dragon's mood hasn't improved much in his absence. Yet while noticeably calmer in Bag End, the fire drake still seems on edge. Smaug's brow is furrowed as his tail(which is usually hidden outside the hobbit hole) twitches anxiously behind him. Without even acknowledging Bilbo, the dragon starts to slowly pace the sitting room in deep thought, his claws flexing anxiously(if Bilbo had to give it a word).

Suffice it to say, while the hobbit is happy his companion has returned, he is not comforted by this break in the creature's aloof and almost lazy demeanor.

"What is wrong, Smaug? And don't you dare tell me it's nothing," Bilbo demands, crossing his arms over his chest and leaving no room for argument. "You've been gone for hours."

The sharp rebuke snaps Smaug out of his pacing.

"You would not understand, Bilbo."

"Do not presume to know what I would and would not understand. I am quite a well-traveled hobbit mind you."

The dragon says nothing in response, and simply resumes his pacing. The hobbit gets up from his seat and nears Smaug.  

"I cannot offer assistance if I am unaware of the problem," Bilbo tries again, his voice soft. "Please, tell me."

"No. I will not involve you in this."

"I'm already involved, Smaug. If you didn't wish to 'involve me', you should have taken residence at another's home."

"Perhaps I should have."

The hobbit isn't prepared for the amount of emotion that cuts through him from that one sentence.

Bilbo has enjoyed their time together, immensely, and he had thought that Smaug had enjoyed his time here too. 

He had thought that a sense of affection had cultivated between them.

He had thought, at least, that Smaug trusted him.

The hurt that Bilbo isn't able to entirely hide from his face has Smaug ending his incessant pacing. As if sensing the misstep, the dragon closes the distance between the two of them and rests a large hand on a round cheek. Bilbo can't help but lean into the warmth of that large palm. Trained on the face of the dragon, now more familiar and dear than he could ever imagine, the hobbit waits for an explanation.

His patience is rewarded.

"Forgive me, Bilbo. I spoke out of turn. My ire is not meant for you."

"Then what is it meant for?"

"Nothing of your concern," begins Smaug. His voice softer yet still tense and on edge. "That is the end of your questions, Bilbo."

Any other creature in all of Middle Earth would have left the conversation at that. After all, it is not wise to continually pick at an dragon that is already irate. 

However, Bilbo proves once again that he is no ordinary creature.

And besides, the utter finality in the dragon's tone makes Bilbo angry. He no longer cares what side of Smaug(personality or form) he is instigating.

"No! Tell me what it is that has you so upset, Smaug! Allow me to share your burden!"

"DO NOT TEST ME, BILBO!" snarls out the dragon as he swiftly pins the small body to the nearby door in an impressive show of agility and strength. "You speak of what you do not know and cannot possibly fathom!"

The green wood is unforgiving as it presses into the hobbit's back. Pinpricks of Smaug's claws bite into the halfing's soft, yielding flesh, as a reminder of the dragon's true form. Taken aback by the uncharacteristic loss of control, Bilbo eyes are wide in surprise. For the first time in months, he sees traces of the beast he met in Erebor. However, in that same instant, Smaug's face returns to his normal stoic expression. A softness enters his golden eyes as he slowly approaches Bilbo as if he were a frightened rabbit. Certain that the hobbit won't dart off, Smaug's large hand settles in the mess of Bilbo's golden curls. For a few moments, there is an awkward tension between the two creatures. However, after a few more moments, it fades. Bilbo takes a step into the touch, enjoying the caress of the heavy hand against his scalp. Relaxed, the hobbit almost misses the whisper of words that escapes the dragon's lips.

"I must leave you, Bilbo." 

"You're leaving? Why? Is it something I did—"

"It is no fault of yours, my treasure. It is something I must do. If I stay here any longer, my presence will only endanger your safety."

"Why?"

A far cry from the tension of earlier, Smaug is patient as he answers the hobbit's question.

"A great evil is gaining power in Middle Earth, Bilbo. There is a chance that it will come closer to you peaceful hobbits than it ever has. My presence here will only increase that chance tenfold. Today, in our valley, I felt it calling to me. Tendrils of dark, ancient summoning magic called out to me. Something is drawing dark magic, searching for raw power. I believe my cloaking spells are the only thing stopping it from finding the Shire."

"Cloaking spells?"

"As my magic has returned, I've been fortifying the protection spells around the Shire that your wizard originally cast."

"So, that's what you've been doing on your daily excursions. I thought you were just hunting your meals."

"Well, one can employ multiple pursuits at a time," answers Smaug, a gleam of a smile on his lips before turning serious. "However, a truth that I have been ignoring for some time has made itself known. A dragon doesn't belong among hobbits anymore than one does among men or elves. And while I cannot stay with you, I will protect you by leaving while I still have the will to do so. I fear this day's disturbance is only the beginning if I linger."

"The beginning of what?"

"The true owner of your trinket, Bilbo. He searches. For it and any that will help him reclaim it."

A shudder of true fear makes Bilbo pale. Seeing it, Smaug's hand continues its gentle petting. 

"Fear not, little one. The ring is well hidden with you. No one would ever think to look for it here. However, if anyone were to find evidence that I have been here, it would instantly arouse suspicion. After all, what business would a terrible dragon like me have with a humble hobbit?"

Bilbo nods in an understanding he doesn't fully feel. In the few months that the dragon has been with him, the hobbit has known a peace that he never thought he would have. He has laughed and smiled more in the last few months than Bilbo can truly remember in his life. Smaug, in his own odd way, has brought life back to Bag End. This smug creature has charmed Bilbo in a way he never imagined possible. In fact, the hobbit would be lying if he denied the heartbreak he feels now at this news of his impending departure.

"Will we meet again?" whispers Bilbo, averting his eyes

At those whispered words, Smaug raises the hobbit's chin until their gazes meet. Bilbo becomes captured by the sincere emotion he sees in the golden orbs of his dragon. Despite the aloofness he tends to exhibit, Smaug has never been one to hide his feelings—his anger, his rage, his delight, his curiosity, has always been worn openly(for better or worse). And the dragon wears his emotions now as he stares down at Bilbo with a gentleness that the halfling has never seen before. The soul-searching expression ends when Smaug seems to find what he is looking for in the hobbit's honey brown eyes. His large hand then leaves Bilbo's curls to glide down the small chest until it rests over Bilbo's racing heartbeat.

"We are intertwined, you and I, my treasure. Have you not noticed?"

The question leaves Bilbo speechless as he feels the charged emotion between them. He can only nod and offer a watery smile with the anguish gripping his heart.

"When are you leaving?"

"Soon," Smaug answers, before his face becomes somber. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" the hobbit repeats in disbelief.

Smaug nods in solemn affirmation.

"I ask that you remain in the Shire, Bilbo. No more adventures that take you far from home. I will make sure no evil finds it's way here for as long as I am able, my magick can do at least that much."

"Alright," Bilbo manages. "I'll stay here. No more adventures."

And as those words leave his mouth, the hobbit knows it is a promise he will keep. No matter what tempting quests Gandalf may ever ask of him.

 

*****

 

That night, as the two prepare to sleep, Bilbo is restless in his dragon's arms. He realizes that he has been utterly spoiled by the creature. The hobbit has grown accustomed to not being alone in this bed. The quilts and pillows that were musty from disuse now have the dragon's earthy scent trapped in their fibers. Bilbo appreciated the change of scent at first, but now it acts as a painful reminder of the impending separation. And the slow realization that the next time he sleeps in this bed, he'll be alone—again, terrifies the hobbit.

Bilbo can't stand it.

With a decision made, Bilbo turns over so that he is facing Smaug's face. The hobbit is far from surprised to find the dragon is awake as well. For a moment, Bilbo simply stares at Smaug. He watches as the soft lamplight bathing the room plays intimately across the expanse of bronze skin and gets lost in the inky dark curls atop his bedmate' head. 

It is funny how used to this creature Bilbo has become accustomed to in such a short period of time.

"Try to find sleep, Bilbo."

"How can I? You're leaving tomorrow."

Saying nothing, Smaug sighs. The breath is heavy with unspoken emotion as the dragon threads his fingers through Bilbo's golden curls. 

"Can I not go with you?"

The hobbit can tell that his question has honestly surprised Smaug. His dragon's gaze softens. Bilbo imagines that his own expression is similar, if not twinged with a bit of desperation to stay at Smaug's side.

"My impetuous hobbit," begins the dragon in a tone of fondness. "You ask to go on a journey where you know neither the destination nor the dangers."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"I would take you with me if I could, Bilbo. Know that I would never choose to part with you. I'm leaving to protect you from both the darkness in the world and the darkness in myself."

Moving closer, Bilbo settles his body on top of Smaug's. His legs on either side of the dragon's hips and tucks his head under Smaug's chin. His ear is pressed against a broad chest, the steady heartbeat below soothing him. The hobbit softly rises and falls as Smaug takes each deep breath—reminiscent of the times Bilbo has rested upon the great dragon in their valley. Once he is settled, it isn't long before Bilbo feels large hands caressing his back. The heat of the warm palms permeates the hobbit's sleeping gown and relaxes his nerves.

"My parents must be rolling in their graves."

"Oh?"

"Yes, they raised me to be a proper hobbit, yet I'm probably the most improper hobbit to ever exist," begins Bilbo, a small smile on his lips. "I've traveled across Middle Earth, befriended a wizard, accompanied a band of dwarves, fought Orcs, and fallen in love with a dragon. And I haven't even reached middle age yet."

Only since his ear is pressed right against it does Bilbo hear the skip in Smaug's heartbeat at his words. Otherwise, he would never have believed it.

Slowly lifting his head, Bilbo is pleased with the shocked expression he has put upon the dragon's face.

"I don't have a farewell present, what with the short notice of your leaving. All I can think to give you was this, even though it has already been yours for some time now."

At his words, Bilbo takes the dragon's hand and places it over his own heart. Smaug's golden eyes widen in amazement. 

"My Bilbo, you behave as if you offer me an everyday trinket. Your heart is the one treasure that I shall selfishly hoard for all time."

Large hands reach up to gently frame the hobbit's round face. For a few moments, the dragon just stares at Bilbo. Then a low growl emanates from Smaug's chest as a slow smirk stretches his lips.

"You have no idea how I desire you, my hobbit."

"W-well, I have some idea. I am lying on top of you at the moment."

Bilbo can only blush as his comment earns him a deep, rumbling chuckle from the dragon he is currently perched upon. Still, Smaug tightens his embrace, further pressing the halfling to the warmth that the creature radiates no matter what form he takes. Busy basking in this shared intimacy, Bilbo is taken by complete surprise when one of Smaug's large hands reaches down to squeeze the hobbit's pert bottom. It earns the dragon a rather adorable squeak for his efforts. 

"Smaug!"

"Just as I thought. Your backside is the perfect handful."

The dragon squeezes once more(firmly) to punctuate his point as the hobbit sputters indignantly. And despite the forward nature of Smaug's affections at the moment, Bilbo can't find it in himself to truly rebuke the dragon's actions. A purr vibrates as his bed partner continues his ministrations, the large hands taking their time as they languidly explore his body. Bilbo struggles to remain proper and not moan at the sure touch. It is a rather difficult battle.

"Th-that's quite enough of your groping!"

"Calm yourself my hobbit," rumbles Smaug, a teasing smile on his face. His hands remain exactly where they are. "My passions are too great to fill only one night and I will not have my sudden departure rush them. When we reunite, Bilbo, no force in Middle Earth will prevent us from sharing that intimacy _at our own leisure_."

Bilbo's mind trips on the dragon's words, his blush only darkening further at their overtones. He tilts his head up to stare into the certainty that is in Smaug's golden gaze.

"That was rather romantic, Smaug."

"You sound surprised. I may be a beast, a fire-breathing terror that haunts the heart of man and dwarf, but I am no monster."

Bilbo can't help the large smile that appears on his face at that.

"I know."

Deciding to enjoy the little time they have left together, the hobbit buries himself even further into Smaug's chest. He tucks himself under the dragon's chin once again to thoroughly enjoy the smoky scent directly from the source. And for one of the few times in his life, Bilbo finds himself lamenting his small statue. The hobbit would very much like to wrap himself around his dragon, just once.

*****

The day that Smaug sets out to leave, the sky is filled with thick, heavy clouds—perfect to hide a flying dragon as it journeys far away from the Shire. The odd pair wait in their valley, the hobbit and dragon standing side by side as a strong wind whips around them. A serene calm exists, as both creatures understand the necessity of their separation, even though neither wants it. As the cool grey sky stretches above the Shire, Bilbo notices that the hue provides an oddly vibrant contrast to the colors around them.

The hobbit has a forced smile on his face as he anxiously fiddles with his hands. He has no idea what to say at a time like this, so Bilbo simply slips his hand into Smaug's much larger one. The dragon says nothing at the gesture, however he squeezes the palm reassuringly. Smaug keeps his golden eyes trained on the sky above them as he searches for the right amount of cloud cover to hide his ascension. 

Bilbo is almost glad for this, as he is unsure how he would be able to cope with the impending parting if that gaze was trained on him.

"It is time, Bilbo."

With a barely audible gasp, the hobbit subconsciously tightens his hold on the man's hand. Bilbo stares at the ground, his toes clenching in the soft grass beneath them as he forces a slightly bigger smile on his face.

"Alright. Just remember, I don't share your longevity, Smaug. You must return before I pass on. I think I'd like to see you at least once more before the end of my days." 

At the words, Smaug turns to completely face Bilbo. His gaze is solely focused on the hobbit. Even though he isn't looking up, Bilbo can feel the no doubtedly searing stare upon him.

"I will return to you once the darkness has released it's hold on this land and me—and not a moment longer, Bilbo. No matter how long we are parted and no matter what distance separates us, we will meet again. I will find you. Have no doubt of that, my treasure."

Not trusting himself to speak, Bilbo nods his agreement. The hobbit takes a deep breath and steels himself and his emotions to look up at the dragon. After all, if the creature must leave today, he wants to remember everything. When Bilbos' gaze locks with Smaug's, he is met with warm gold. His own eyes widen as the amount of emotion in them. There is sadness alongside a burning, passionate determination in the dragon's gaze. In his silent awe, Bilbo belatedly acknowledges that his love's long fingers have started to comb through his dark honey locks. With a tenderness that belies a dragon, Smaug pulls the hobbit to him. Bilbo simply takes in the warmth from the man's chest as he feels Smaug bury his nose into his curls. The dragon spends these moments deeply inhaling the scent he finds there, as if to store the scent of Bilbo Baggins for all time. 

"May I have a kiss?"

Bilbo's whispered request is met with a slow smile from Smaug. 

"The mere fact that you believe you ever need to ask for such a thing is beyond charming."

The hobbit smiles as the dragon tilts his head down to grant the request. At first it is a simple press of lips before Bilbo tightens his hold in the man's cloak. Standing on his tiptoes, the hobbit deepens the kiss. To be honest, he feels a bit silly. But in a moment, Bilbo feels Smaug wrap his arms around him, lifting the hobbit to compensate for their significant height difference. However, the passion, the pure devotion, behind the kiss does not suffer. It is unknown to both creatures how long they spend in each other's embrace.

However, they both agree that it is not nearly long enough.

This kiss is raw. That is the only way Bilbo can think to describe it. His emotions, his heart, his passion have never been so exposed as they are right now. It is both intoxicating that he feels completely unhindered by this display as well as humbled beyond reason that it is being equally answered. 

When the wind changes, Smaug releases the hobbit and steps back. As Bilbo takes in the human form of the dragon, for perhaps the last time, he notices that there is a tension in the man's form. It takes him a moment to realize the internal fight that the dragon endures. The drake wanting no more than to continue holding the halfing in his embrace.

After all, it is the same battle that Bilbo is waging himself.

"Goodbye, Bilbo Baggins, my barrel rider." 

The fondness in the familiar name makes Bilbo smile genuinely. His first of the day.

"Goodbye, Smaug, my chief of all calamity."

With a swirl of warm magic, the man ascends into the sky transforming into his true form as he passes through the clouds. As Bilbo stands in the tall grasses, watching the crimson form of Smaug soar into the heavens, a sense of bittersweet peace settles over him. A piece of himself soaring away until they meet again. 

Bilbo watches as the flash of red disappears into the mass of swirling grey clouds. And continues to stare at the sky long after Smaug is gone from his sights.

The hobbit is a mess of emotions as he pulls out a small leather-bound book from his pocket and sets down to record another story. His pen flowing across the parchment pages as he pours out another tale, this one not quite the adventure that fills his red book. All the same, one that deserves to be recorded if only for the hobbit's private enjoyment and recollection. His hand eager to record everything while he still has the fresh memory and lingering warmth of Smaug with him.

As the familiar scratch of quill on parchment settles his emotions, Bilbo resolves his heart to wait for Smaug's return. Knowing soul deep, that the two would meet again. A silent vow that he would wait all his days for his dragon to come back to him.

He writes, nonstop, until the light of the day completely vanishes. Bilbo then stands and begins his long walk back to his now empty home, his thoughts his only companion. And while they are optimistic, his ponderings do not provide the same warmth as an ornery dragon that has wormed his way into the hobbit's heart.

Bilbo never intended to be an author, a weaver of tales—both imagined and experienced. 

He never intended to house a fire drake, possibly the last, in the Shire of all places. Especially in Bag End. 

And most certainly, Bilbo Baggins never intended to fall in love with that same dragon. 

Yet sometimes, Bilbo knows that it is best to simply accept whatever fortune life deems to throw at him, regardless of original intents or purposes. 

 

* * *

***THE END***

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated to do this. 
> 
> But, it's the only way this story works with the rest of the events of LOTR to make sense(I like to think I'm a good writer, but I would never presume to rewrite Tolkien). This story started as me wanting to put my own spin on the common trope in this fandom, I enjoy Smaug living with Bilbo in the Shire as much as anyone. However, I think it is always meant to be a temporary arrangement considering the events going on around them.
> 
> BUT, there is more to this story! *STAY TUNED*


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